So my husband actually picks up the phone and calls me from work to ask what the deal is. "How come you're not blogging anymore? What's wrong? You're not going to post any thing all week?" Dude. I'm a little busy over here, what with the flurry of school activities and the writing of Christmas cards and the consuming of an entire tin of fudge.
Breathe a sigh of relief, Internet. I haven't been buried in a snowdrift, although we certainly have received enough snow in the last few days to cover my exhausted body should I fall over in the back yard and decide to just stay there and take a nap.
It's crazy. Every evening after work my husband comes home and fires up the John Deere to clear another 6" from the driveway and the road. I make hot chocolate for everyone, serving it in teacups and saucers so my daughters think it's fancy. After dinner, I make my husband drive me to town in his 4-wheel-drive truck so I can shop, while he waits in the parking lot like the crowd-phobic man that he is.
After tucking the girls in for the night, I climb into bed wearing my long flannel nightgown and soft fleece socks; I settle into my pillows that I've arranged just so and begin reading The Time Traveler's Wife with my magnifying glasses perched on the end of my nose, but I can't get past the first chapter because I keep falling asleep.
And I'm pretty sure I've started snoring.
Baby, it's cold outside.
I think I'll go in and blog.
Disclaimer: Daisy's eyes are not a weird, glowing green. They have a red-eye function in iPhoto . . . where's the green-eye function, I ask you.
Dinner last night: beef stew, cheddar-onion breadsticks
Exactly one year ago today: